


Siren Song

by Ciphernetics



Series: Gwenvid Week [1]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Gwen eats people so light gore i guess, Gwenvid Week, I meant to make this shorter, Sirens/mermaids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11934966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciphernetics/pseuds/Ciphernetics
Summary: Everyone always said be careful around sirens, so David befriends one. Carefully.





	Siren Song

**Author's Note:**

> Gwenvid week, woo woo. I wrote this while tired and sick and stressed as hell, and this is literally as short as I could make it. I'm incapable of drabbles.

He first sees her perched on a rocky outcrop that sprawls above the surface near where he makes his home. She's alone and completely naked. Despite these two factors, she's unusually calm, watching the distant coastline with something resembling boredom. He doesn't recall any ships sinking nearby, but she can't have swum this far, and there's nothing nearby, no little dinghy moored to the rocks. She's stranded, and although it's not David's _modus operandi_ to let himself be seen, he can't leave her alone like that, baking under the hot sun.

He hovers some ways away, just barely peeking above the water, and debates with himself about what he should do. If she's dehydrated enough, he can maybe convince her his existence is some kind of fever dream and deposit her on the closest shore that leads to civilisation.

And then the woman shifts forwards and slips off the rock, into the water, disappearing below the surface. She doesn't resurface, and adrenaline floods David's system, muscle memory kicking him. He dives, propelling himself forward with as much speed as he can manage towards the shape of her, hanging easily suspending in the water. She looks relaxed, her arms stretched out above her, her eyes closed. They open just as he's seconds away, and his heart jumps, but he knew she'd have to see him if he was going to save her.

He takes her by the upper arm, dragging her up. They break the surface, and instead of hacking for breath like others have, the woman shoots him a look of disdain.

“You mind?” She yanks her arm out of his grip, and David moves back. “What's your issue? Jeez, I thought I was alone out here.”

David blinks. “Excuse me?”

She doesn't seem at all perturbed by his tail, moving lazily as he treads water, staring at her. “I- I'm sorry, I thought… I thought you needed help!”

The woman sighs, rolling her eyes. “Alright. Look, I'm gonna let you off with a warning for this one, cause I know how good I am at this shit, and how, uh, _helpful_ your kind like to be,” she says, spitting the word with distaste. “But go ahead, take a closer look, and tell me where you might've gone wrong.”

David tilts his head, looking at her through a different frame. Upon first glance, she'd looked human. Looking closer, the evidence to the contrary begins to present itself. Her eyes are a vibrant purple, the pupils pricked, and her teeth shine with threatening points when she smirks. As he watches, a set of previously unnoticed seams on either side if her throat flex and open, not dissimilar to his own gills.

“Oh.”

“You got it?”

“Well, uh, I… understand that I made a mistake in assuming you were drowning,” he says carefully. “I'm sorry!”

She huffs a laugh, her head ducking back under the water. David follows.

“Close enough, I guess,” she says, and swipes a hand over her thigh. For a split second the pressure in David's ears seems to pop, and shining purple follows the path of her hand and beyond, dripping over her joining legs like paint. The whole thing takes barely a few seconds, but then her tail is curling and uncurling beneath her, and she sighs. “That's better.”

“Oh!” David's face lights up with understanding. “I've never met a real siren before!”

“Sorry to break your record.” She smiles at him again, toothy and vaguely threatening, and David's excited fades beneath his apprehension. His mother warned him that sirens were… not like them. They looked similar, and most humans couldn't or didn't care to tell the difference, but David can see them. Along either side of her tail is a set of fins, razor sharp, and even the very ends of her tailfin seem to be pointed more than is strictly necessary. She's part of a predator species, a species that's not above making a meal of their _Mere_ cousins in desperate times. He backs away slightly, slowly, his muscles tensing.

“W- well… um, sorry for interrupting! It was nice to meet you, but I should p- probably…” he looks over his shoulder.

The woman- the siren- snorts.

“Do whatever you want, but I'm not sticking around. If you see me again, just stay out of my way, okay?”

She turns without waiting for an answer and glides away, leaving David with a lot of terrified adrenaline and a vivid memory of purple scales shining in the watery sunlight.

And that was the first time.

* * *

 

The second time started with similar circumstances, but this time David kept a safe distance when he saw her lounging on the rock. He didn't know what she was doing until she straightened up, staring at the horizon, and David followed her eyes to see an approaching ship. A sickly feeling tugs at his stomach, a horrible suspicion of what comes next.

When the ship is close enough, she starts singing.

Its loud, louder than any human, and though they're too closely related for it to have the intended effect on him, she's still almost enchanting. There's a soft quality to her voice he wouldn't have expected from such a hard exterior, and the words she sings seem to slip out of his mind like water through his fingers.

He doesn't know what to do. He's afraid to interrupt, afraid that he'll be what replaces her stolen meal, and then the decision is taken from his hands with a terrible cracking noise that shatters the summer air.

There's screaming. People scramble, but the rocks are jagged, the damage already done.

The woman watches, still singing, a haunting harmony to the sound of destruction. As the ship goes down, one of the crew seems intent on dragging himself over to her, swimming clumsily through the water and climbing onto the rock. He approaches her on hands and knees, and she smiles. She reaches for him, pulls him closer, pulls his face to hers, and the half-drowned man goes willingly.

Something sharp and yet blunt twists in David's gut as she kisses him. His stomach feels cold, crystalline. He can't pin down why, can't put a name to the feeling.

The man jerks back abruptly, and for a moment there's only confusion on his face. He opens his mouth and instead of words, blood pours from his lips. His tongue is still in her mouth. It's no longer in his.

The cold feeling is gone, replaced with a roiling disgust.

She swallows the flesh, and as the man descends into pain-fueled panic, David can see red lines bloom across his skin where he strains against her claws.

She bites him, tears his throat open like tissue paper, and he slumps.

David looks away.

Choked cries echo through the air, and it occurs to him that others are still drowning, that while he was marvelling at the sight of a terrifying wild animal he neglected his duties.

He's afraid to approach, but the call of rescue is greater. The woman seems more than occupied, stripping flesh from the limp body in her lap, and David quickly darts past. He gathers who he can and pushes them into the tiny lifeboat bobbing on the water, tearing through the rope that restrains it with his teeth. There are paddles in the boat, and the shore isn't far away. Ignoring frantic questions, David shoves the paddles into the hands of two capable looking gentleman and pushes the boat in the direction of land.

“Go,” he hisses, and they go, overwhelmed by what they've seen. She was not subtle.

Once they're a good enough distance away, David returns to the wreck as it sinks. There's debris floating everywhere.

He pushes it aside and carefully approaches the rocky outcropping. The woman watches, looking borderline amused. He keeps his guard up, but the safest moment to talk to a siren, they say, is after they've fed.

“Have fun?” She asks, and he flinches.

“I.. Why did you do that?”

“Why do you think?” She wipes a hand across her mouth, doing nothing but smearing the blood on her face. “I was hungry.”

She picks up a hand and what seems to be part of a wrist and holds it out, grinning. The fingers are limp and pale. David feels remarkably similar.

“Want some?”

“U- um, no. No, thank you. No.”

“Suit yourself.”

She bites one of the fingers and spits it out, and he has the feeling she's trying to intimidate him. It works.

“A lot of people could have died,” he ventures, his voice weak.

She nods. “But they didn't, thanks to you. Good job and whatever, hero.”

He looks at the torso in her lap and looks away.

“If you're hoping to save this one, too, you're a little too late,” she adds.

David grimaces.

“I'm sorry, miss, uh…”

“...Gwen, I guess.”

“Gwen. But… you don't think that was a little excessive?”

“If I could get them alone, I would, okay? It's not my fault they like to group together. And I've gotta eat.”

“I… I suppose. But maybe, if you could let me know when you're doing this, I could be of some help? I mean, they don't all have to die, right?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. Maybe. I'll think about it.”

She goes back to eating, and apparently the conversation is over.

David sighs, turning, and just before he can dip below the waters surface she calls out.

“Hey. You got a name, or am I just supposed to keep calling you hero?”

“Oh! David, it's- it's David.”

“Right. Well, David, I'm gonna be hungry again in a week or two. So…” she shrugs at the debris floating on the water. David nods.

“I'll be close by. I stay over there.”

He gestures to the dark mass of rock that swells below the surface, on the sea floor. “So if you need my help, or- anything!”

She shrugs. “Okay.”

“O- okay!”

Oh, it's awkward.

“Well,” David swallows. “I guess I'll see you around? Have a.. a nice meal…”

“Thanks.” She grins, shows him blood stained teeth, and David shivers.

He thinks about it for the rest of the week.

* * *

 

It becomes almost routine. A strange routine, maybe a little unpredictable. She hunts him down and drags him up to the rocks to do damage control while she eats, roughly once a week. She watches him dart back and forth in the water, and occasionally he glances up to meet her eyes. The sight of dismembered people stops being quite so horrific. Gwen's teasing jabs get no less intimidating, but David's holding out hope she sees him less as a backup meal and more as a friend, because she's nothing like anyone he's ever known. She's funny and caustic, surprisingly easygoing and a big fan of sarcasm. Sometimes she tells him stories about where she came from, and he tells her his own. She never stops being terrifying to him.

One day, she points to his bandana and asks why he wears something so stupid, so _human._

“I- I like it!” He defends. “It matches me! And I got it as a thank you for saving someone!”

“Wow. _Thanks for saving my life, here's a yellow rag._  That's quite a gift.”

“It was all they had!”

She looks doubtful. “Really? They couldn't have offered some gold or fish or their body or something?”

“Their body? That's- that's awful!” David gasps.

“Why? Happens to me all the time.”

“That's different. You're… you do that singing, and you're not saving anyone!”

“I'm saving _myself,_ ” she points out. “You want me to starve?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, I'd never take them up on it. I don't go for humans.”

David fidgets with his bandana. The end of his tail is resting lazily in the water, but his mouth is suddenly dry, and he considers slipping back beneath the surface for a moment.

“Then, um. What- what do you go for?”

She leans back on her hands and looks at him like he's an idiot.

“I don't know, how about my own species?”

“Oh. R- right, me too.”

He slips back into the water, just to his shoulders, and wishes she would stop looking at him.

* * *

 

He salvages the wrecks in his spare time. His mother called him sentimental, but David just likes souvenirs. His little cave is filled with them, with silver and gold and glass and slowly disintegrating fabric. He likes the gold things, especially the ones with the same shining hue as his scales. He brings her one of his collection, a silver bracelet he's had for almost two years.

“I couldn't find anything purple,” he explains. “And I thought silver kinda complimented it, instead, so…”

She looks at it.

“I don't do trinkets,” she says, plain and simple. David hesitates, but holds it out again.

“Well, um, it might help you. I- I mean, wouldn't humans be more likely to trust a woman who's got the mark of society?”

“The _what?_ What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, it'd make you look more human?”

It's a pathetic excuse, and he feels pathetic saying it. “So they'd… trust you more?”

“They don't need to trust me. I sing.”

“R- right, but…” he's got nothing. He holds the bracelet close, wondering if he can just leave before he makes this any more awkward.

She holds her arm out, sighing.

“Fine, I guess.”

He fastens the clasp around her wrist, his heart fluttering. He can't tell what she thinks of it, twisting her wrist and watching it glint in the setting sun.

She toys with it until they part ways for the night. She's still wearing it the next day, and the day after that.

* * *

 

He invites her to his cave a few times, just to show her around. She always refuses. When she changes her mind, it's not because he asked. In fact, David's not really sure why it is. She just shows up at the entrance one day and pushes aside David's makeshift door- a thick blanket, weighed down with a heavy, rusted chain- and glides in like she owns the place. Sunlight filter through faults in the ceiling, illuminating the piles of junk, and David shrieks a little bit.

“Oh! Gwen! You gave me a fright,” he laughs, relaxing. “I wasn't expecting you!”

“Yeah, surprise. Anyway, I'm here. This is what you kept begging for, right?”

David beams.

He shows her around. Not that there's much to show. It's a small cave. His tour consists of her turning in a circle while he picks up thing after thing after thing and tells her the stories behind them. She settles on his makeshift bed while he talks, and a couple weeks ago he might've assumed she was bored but now he'd like to think he can see the ill-disguised interest. He shows her a tin box of jewellery, and she tries on a ring. It doesn't get very far down her finger, not with the webbing in the way, and the way she quietly chuckles is better than any siren song.

* * *

 

 

Gwen shows up uninvited often. David tries to offer her what hospitality he can, but she doesn't like fish and he… he doesn't have much else. She asks to hear more of the stories behind his collection. Sometimes she just naps on his bed.

One day, he's showing her a small statuette of a dog. He's not entirely sure what they're for, he tells her, but he's seen them aboard ships. They have a lot of hair, and don't seem to talk much.

Gwen doesn't appear to be quite listening today, her eyes on David's hands as he turns the little stone figure over in his fingers.

“Does anyone know I'm here?” She interrupts after a while.

“Excuse me?”

“I though _Mere_ were pretty tight knit. But you never talk about anyone else. Do you see… any others?”

“Oh.” David runs his thumb down the little stone dog's back. “I guess most of us are pretty close. It's not that I don't like them! But I like this cave, and I like being here to help the shipwrecks, and I… guess it's a little too far from the homestead for anyone to visit. Besides, I think the only one who really misses me is my mom.”

“So why do you stay out here?”

He shrugs. “Why do you?”

“I'm a siren. We're natural loners.”

He doesn't point out that she seems to spend more time with him than without, lately. He turns to set the statue down on his little makeshift shelf, and the current swirls behind him as Gwen gets close.

“So you didn't tell anyone about inviting a siren into your home?”

There are hands on his shoulders, and David's stomach tightens unpleasantly.

“Uh…”

“Kinda dangerous, don't you think?” Her voice is low, an unsettling edge to it. “Nobody told you to be more careful around wild animals?”

David forces himself to take a deep breath. “I trust you,” he says, his tone falsely light. “You're not an animal!”

The hands on his shoulders gently squeeze.

“That's what sirens do,” she murmurs. “They pretend, lure people in, make them feel safe. Then we…”

She breathes out in a sharp huff, and David flinches as the current hit his skin.

Behind him, too close to his ear, Gwen chuckles lowly.

“Be honest with me, David. Do I scare you? Knowing what I am, what I _eat_ …” Her hands slip down his shoulders to his arms, pinning them to his sides. “Are you _afraid_ of me?”

David's heart thrums quickly in his chest. He can feel her breathing over his throat, the slight prick of her claws on his skin. He swallows and answers in a whisper.

“...Terrified.”

She hums, low and satisfied and almost a little obscene, and her fingers tighten.

“You know, I could eat you. It wouldn't be hard. You'd probably taste good.”

David's heart jumps, and immediately he's reaching into the furthest reaches of his short circuiting brain to desperately try and recall when the last time she ate was. But she wouldn't _really_ , would she? He's about seventy percent sure, but that number is steadily ticking down the closer her mouth gets to his throat.

“Y- you don't eat fish,” he jokes weakly.

“Yeah, well.”

One of the spines of her tailfin brushes the back of his. Her mouth hovers right above his skin.

“There's a first time for everything.”

She sinks her teeth in, tearing David's throat open with a shake of her head.

Or for a split second, that's what David was convinced she was going to do. Instead, all the damage she inflicts narrows down to one little light scrape of her teeth against his skin.  
David arches slightly, his head tilting away with a pathetic whining yip as his heart nearly strangles itself in a tsunami of fear, adrenaline, and something much, much warmer than the water that surrounds them. Gwen snickers.

"You really thought I would do that to you?"

It takes him a moment to get his scattered soul together. The basic instinct of fight or flight is still twanging in his nerves like the fading vibrations of a plucked guitar string.

"M... maybe?"

"Good. Keep thinking that."

This time, she does sink her teeth in. Not like he's seen her do to those poor wretched sailors. Not even hard enough to break the skin. But her teeth are pricking little sunbursts into his nerves and it's electric, paralysing.  
With a terrified, almost feminine little mewl, David goes lax.  She laughs, a bubbly sound in her throat as she's still biting him, and her breath is so warm, vibrant. He's not entirely confident that if she asked to tear a chunk of flesh out of him he wouldn't let her.

She withdraws those excruciating, exquisite pinprick teeth and turns him around, laughing.

“Jesus, you okay? You're going redder than the inside of some guy.”

“I- I… um…” He'd only just managed to gather his thoughts when she bit him, scattering them like a school of skittish fish, and now David's occupied trying to wrangle anything that'll give him the ability to say something coherent.

He loses all hope for ever having a functioning brain again when she pushes that smirking mouth to his.

She doesn't kiss like she eats, and for that David's incredibly grateful. He could almost call it gentle. Almost, because if he called her that to her face, she might finish this by tearing out his tongue.

She trails her fingers up his side, and he takes a sharp, shuddering breath against her lips.

He takes it back, she does kiss like she eats, because somehow they drifted back till his back touched the wall and that gentleness has turned to something more voracious that easily draws the strength out of him, leaving him trembling and breathless and clutching at her waist for dear life.

At least he gets to keep his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> You can imagine what happens next. Maybe they go for a scenic swim. Maybe they take a nap. Maybe they BANG
> 
> Shamelessly pilfered this entire dynamic from Forestwater. Love u babe.


End file.
